


step by step

by towine (snippetcee)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Flirting, M/M, mostly flustered bumbling around but. you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 05:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9870062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snippetcee/pseuds/towine
Summary: “Do you want to dance or not?” Noctis said, trying to sound grouchy instead of regrettably charmed.(or, Prompto and Noctis meet for the first time at Gladio and Ignis' wedding, where Prompto is working as the photographer.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is self-indulgent as heck but i've been dying to write a promptis meet cute, so here's this! i'm a sucker for meet cutes, i don't think i can hold myself back from writing more.

Noctis never thought he’d see something like this: Ignis—immaculately dressed, carefully gelled hair, tight-laced Ignis—with cake smeared against his face. There was simply no way on earth Ignis would treat food so ungently. It was incredible, really, that Ignis managed to fall in love with Gladio, whose gentlest moments were a pair of chopsticks in his hands, plucking noodles from a flimsy styrofoam cup. And even then, Noctis would hesitate to call it delicate, seeing as Gladio had mastered the technique enough to slurp it all in one go rather than eat mouthful by mouthful like a normal human being. It made sense, then, that Gladio was the one to make the first move in the tradition of stuffing the first slice of cake into your spouse’s face.

There were laughs among the guests as Ignis gave Gladio the same in kind and used his fingers to stuff cake messily into Gladio’s mouth. All around him, Noctis could hear the _click_ of phones snapping photos of the moment. Noctis grinned and took out his own phone as Ignis wiped the cake from his face.

Gladio reached out with his hand, carefully wiping away a smear of frosting from the corner of Ignis’ mouth. Ignis’ smile was the brightest and widest Noctis had ever seen it, and Gladio looked at him with soft, tender eyes.

Noctis was wrong, as it turned out—this was Gladio at his most gentle.  
  


-  
  


It wasn’t a very large reception—Ignis probably preferred it that way, to keep it intimate and familiar—but their friends and family were energetic and thrumming with the happy knowledge that _Gladio and Ignis are married_. Like, for real.

In all honesty, Noctis used to think it would have been him first. Family expectations and all, when he had the weight of his father’s legacy and company hanging over him. But his father had never wished for those kinds of burdens on Noctis, for which Noctis was grateful. He never gave much thought to marriage, but the idea of doing it for business or appearances made his nose wrinkle.

But that wasn’t Gladio and Ignis. No, they were in it so deep Noctis couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it coming sooner.

He idly dragged a finger against the rim of his champagne glass, watching as Ignis and Gladio had their first dance. Gladio was surprisingly graceful in his movements, and Ignis was as impeccable as ever. Noctis wondered if they practiced much, beforehand. Then he realized there was no way Ignis let them go unprepared for this, and he huffed an amused breath before sipping his champagne.

_Click!_

Noctis looked to his left and, not far from the head table he was seated at, there was a man. He had a camera in his hands, big and expensive looking. Noctis couldn’t see his face but his hair was a pale blond, and he had his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

The wedding photographer, Noctis thought. The man lowered the camera from his face, and Noctis saw his fine-pointed nose, the smattering of freckles across the man’s cheeks, and Noctis realized: not just the wedding photographer, but _the_ photographer. The one Ignis and Gladio mentioned sometimes, who was around Noctis’ age and worked as a freelance photographer.

Prompto. That was who he was.

Noctis saw Prompto grin at the scene of Ignis and Gladio just as laughs bubbled out from the other spectators, and Noctis turned to see Gladio dipping Ignis almost perilously close to the floor. Ignis was red-faced and holding on for dear life, clearly not having expected it. Noctis smiled against the rim of his glass.

_Click!_

This time, when Noctis looked, the camera was aimed at him. He blinked and lowered his glass, the smile slipping off his face in surprise.

The photographer— _Prompto_ , Noctis’ mind corrected, Prompto—lowered the camera again, and was looking at him. He gave Noctis a sheepish smile and a shrug, as if taking the picture was something out of his control.

Then Prompto moved on, maneuvering himself through the crowd to get a different angle for the dance, or perhaps other subjects more interesting to photograph. Noctis watched him go, licking the lingering drops of champagne from his lips.

Ignis and Gladio had said a lot about Prompto before—blond, buoyant, brave—and Noctis never thought much about the fact that their schedules never seemed to match correctly, that he and Prompto were never able to inhabit the same space at the same time. It was sort of a shame, he supposed, because Ignis and Gladio talked about Prompto like he was a tiny sun, warm and constant.

They never mentioned he was _attractive_ , too.

Noctis signaled for another glass of champagne before his thoughts could linger on it—on Prompto—much longer.  
  
  
-  
  
  
“Enjoying yourself?” Luna asked, sliding into the chair beside Noctis and eating her slice of cake in small bites with a fork. She was wearing a light blue dress and her hair curled sweetly around her face. Noctis relaxed a little; Luna always had that sort of effect.

“Yeah,” Noctis said, truthfully. Even though he’d spent most of the reception sitting and people watching, occasionally chatting with the ones who stopped to say hello to him, he really was enjoying himself. Gatherings made him itch sometimes, whenever he was forced to attend them. But this was different. This was among friends.

“That’s good,” Luna said, smiling. “Not going to dance, though?”

“We both know I can’t dance,” Noctis told her.

Luna hid a laugh behind her hand. “Can’t or won’t?”

“ _Can’t._ ”

“I think we both know that isn’t true,” Luna said, pointing her fork emphatically at Noctis. “A year of dancing lessons together has to mean something, right?”

“Don’t remind me,” Noctis groaned. “We were, like, ten and only did it because our parents made us.”

“You were good, though!”

“Now who’s the one lying?”

“Come on, Noctis,” Luna said, poking him in the side. “It’s a wedding, you have to dance. If not with me, then with _someone_.”

“Or I can just eat more cake. That’s always an option.”

“Haven’t you eaten two slices already?”

“Shouldn’t you ask Aranea to a dance already?”

“That’s—!” Luna stammered, suddenly bright red in the cheeks.

Noctis smiled, victorious, and stole the last piece of cake from Luna’s plate.  
  
  
-

  
Noctis was pretty mediocre when it came to dancing, no matter what Luna insisted. Granted, that was when he was ten years old, and now he’s had time to grow into the body he felt so gawky and awkward in as a boy. It didn’t make dancing in front of a crowd of people any less mortifying, though, which was what led Noctis to linger at the edge of the room, talking to people he recognized but mostly stopping to read the work-related emails endlessly popping up on his phone. He could never get a moment of peace.

“Hey,” said a voice near him. “Noctis, right?”

Noctis looked up from his phone screen, and saw Prompto.

He had his camera hanging from a strap around his neck. From this close, Noctis could see the clear blue of his eyes, the soft texture of his hair, the way locks of it curled against his jaw and neck.

“Um, yes,” Noctis said. He felt off-center, suddenly; a little unsteady on his feet.

Then Prompto smiled, which somehow made the unsteadiness even worse.

“You’re Prompto,” Noctis managed to say.

Prompto brightened. “You know me?”

“Ignis and Gladio have talked about you before.” Noctis held his hand out.

Prompto grasped and shook it; his palm was warm.

“Wow, I hope you haven’t heard anything terrible,” Prompto laughed, shyly rubbing the side of his nose.

Noctis shook his head, smiling a little. “Nope, don’t need to worry. They said you’re a photographer. They hire you for the day?”

“It’s my wedding gift to them, actually,” Prompto explained. He tapped his finger against the shutter-button of his camera. “I’ve been spending all night snapping away. Sorry about earlier, by the way.” Prompto sounded sheepish.

“Earlier?” Noctis said, raising an eyebrow.

“During the dance,” Prompto said, nodding his head toward the dancefloor. “Sorry if you didn’t want your picture taken, I should have asked first.” Prompto seemed to shrink a little, which made distress flare inexplicably inside Noctis’ chest.

“No, no,” Noctis said immediately, nearly reaching out to touch Prompto’s arm before he thought better of it. “Really, it was fine. Just surprised me, that’s all.”

Prompto relaxed, relief spreading through his face. “I’ll give you a heads up, next time,” he said, smiling a little.

“There’s no need for that,” Noctis assured, heat prickling his face a little thinking about Prompto wanting to take more pictures of him, for whatever unfathomable reasons. “Just make sure you get my good side,” he joked.

“I heard the future CEO of Insomnia Industries has no bad side,” Prompto said in return.

Noctis suddenly felt warm beneath his collar, and he regretted not grabbing another glass from the passing waiter a few minutes ago, if only to have something to hide his face behind. But here he was, with nothing to protect himself from the blush that was—distressingly, uncontrollably—creeping up onto his face.

“What else have you heard about me?” Noctis said, voice low in his throat.

Noctis watched, oddly satisfied, as red bloomed onto Prompto’s face. “I, um,” Prompto began, fumbling over his words. He licked his lips, opening his mouth to speak.

Ignis suddenly materialized behind them.

“Noctis!” he said, uncharacteristically loud, and slung an arm around Noctis’ shoulders. Noctis tried very hard to ignore the strange disappointment settling in his stomach.

“Hey, Ignis,” Noctis said, reaching out to grasp Ignis’ arms as he swayed a little on his feet. Noctis suspected Ignis had had one too many glasses of champagne, which Noctis couldn’t really chide him for considering it was his wedding. “Alright there?”

“I’m very alright,” Ignis said, earnestly, with a bright smile. His joy was contagious, and Noctis couldn’t fight the little swell of happiness he felt at seeing one of his closest friends so happy. “I’m very good, Noct, how about you? And you, Prompto?” Ignis turned to address Prompto. “You’ve been working all night, you ought to take a break.”

“Aw, I don’t mind,” Prompto said. “I’ve been finding time to have fun, here and there.” Prompto glanced at Noctis, an amused, almost secretive smile on his face.

“Have either of you danced?” Ignis asked, staring at them as if it were a very serious question.

Noctis and Prompto began answering at the same time. “Oh, no, I-I don’t—”

“I’ve been busy taking pictures, you know—”

“I’m not really a dancer—”

“—and the last thing you want is me ruining the night with my dancing—”

“—I’ve been dealing with emails from work, you know how it is—”

“Nonsense,” Ignis said to the both of them, with finality. He plucked the camera out of Prompto’s hands, pulling the strap up over his head. Before Prompto could protest, he said, “Take a break, Prompto, please. For my sake, if anything else. I won’t be having two of my best friends standing around at my reception when there’s a perfectly good dancefloor over there. Now, go.”

Ignis walked away with Prompto’s camera in his hands, his long legs carrying him far away before Prompto could say a word. And that, Noctis supposed, was that.

They were quiet for a moment. Noctis said, “How drunk do you think he is right now?”

A laugh escaped from Prompto’s mouth, light and pleasant-sounding. Noctis kind of wanted to hear it again.

“Oh, god, I hope he doesn’t drop my camera.”

“I don’t think he’s giving it back,” Noctis said sympathetically.

“Do we have to dance for him to give it up?”

“I, er,” Noctis said, hating his sudden stammering, “I guess it’s worth a shot.”

“I was joking,” Prompto said. Noctis kind of wanted to die of mortification right there, but then Prompto grinned, nudging Noctis’ arm good naturedly. “Okay, partly joking.”

“Do you want to dance or not?” Noctis said, trying to sound grouchy instead of regrettably charmed.

“Only if you’re prepared for disaster,” Prompto said, but he was walking towards the dancefloor, anyway. Noctis followed. “Like, really, really terrible disaster. Like you might have to keep your eyes averted to save yourself, you know, like the end of the first Indiana Jones movie.”

That made Noctis laugh, sudden and surprised. Prompto seemed pleased. Noctis cleared his throat, trying to bite down on a smile. He said, “It’s a slow song, I think you’ll survive.”

Prompto seemed to shut up at that. “Oh,” he said, finally noticing the people—couples—swaying together to the song. “Oh—huh.”

Noctis said nothing, only offered his hand out to Prompto. Prompto stared for a moment, then reached out to take it.

“I’m gonna need you to help me out here,” Prompto said nervously. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I got you,” Noctis said reassuringly, ignoring his rapid heartbeat and his past memories of clumsy dance lessons. He settled his hand on Prompto’s waist, and he could feel the solid warmth of Prompto’s body through the cloth of his dress shirt. Prompto seemed uncertain where to put his own hand, eventually laying it gently on the slope of Noctis’ shoulder.

With hesitant, careful steps, Noctis guided them to and fro to the slow pulse of the music.

It really was a sappy song to dance to.

“It’s almost like Ignis planned this,” Prompto joked, his voice quieter now that they were so close together.

Noctis noticed, over Prompto’s shoulder, Luna watching from the edge of the dancefloor where she was talking to Aranea. She gave Noctis a small, amused smile. Noctis narrowed his eyes at her, and said, “I’m not sure it was Ignis’ idea.”

Prompto looked a little confused at that, but Noctis slid his hand closer to the small of Prompto’s back and brought their bodies a little closer, which made Prompto seize up, his expression flustered.

“Sorry,” Noctis said quickly. “Was that okay?” He started to move away, but Prompto squeezed Noctis’ shoulder, keeping him still.

“N-No, it’s fine! Really.” Prompto relaxed under Noctis’ hands. His cheeks were red. The warm lighting of the room gave his hair a golden glow, and Noctis wondered, suddenly, if Prompto’s hair felt as soft as it looked.

“Hey,” Noctis said, without thinking, “do you have any plans next weekend?”

Prompto blinked, surprised. “Oh, um. No, I don’t think so.”

“Would you…” Noctis swallowed. Damn it. He felt like a teenager again. “Would you maybe want to… get lunch together sometime? Or coffee, if that works better for you.”

Prompto stared, as if processing Noctis’ words. Then he ducked his head, his face hidden beneath the fall of his bangs. Noctis tried to quell the nervousness fluttering in his stomach.

Then Prompto looked up, smiling, warm and sweet. He said, “Lunch would be really great.”

Noctis exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. This time, he didn’t try to stop the smile that spread across his face. “Okay,” he said, squeezing Prompto’s hand in his. “Okay, cool.”

“Cool,” Prompto repeated, laughing a little.

The current song winded down to a close, the last notes ringing in the air before receding into silence. For a brief moment, Noctis felt everything turn quiet, the world condensing down to the warmth of his and Prompto’s connected hands.

The next song began. It was slow, again—dreamy and tender.

Prompto said, “Would it bother you if I asked for another dance?”

Noctis was already moving closer. “I’d be offended if you didn’t, actually.”

  
-  
  


On the ride back home to his apartment, Noctis unlocked his phone and opened his contacts, scrolling down until he reached  _Prompto_. He ran his thumb over the letters, tested the shape of them on his tongue as he mouthed it silently. He opened a new text to ask Prompto if he had any preferences for where to meet on Saturday. Noctis was looking forward to it.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!!


End file.
